


Don't Fly So Close To Me

by GoldenAsphodel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Beta Wanted, Eventual Romance, Humor, Romance, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-12-26 09:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12055872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenAsphodel/pseuds/GoldenAsphodel
Summary: Loretta Baker is secretly a creative and funny girl, looking forward to receiving a bike for her eleventh birthday. Around most people, she is quiet and reserved. She thinks adults only care if you follow the rules, so she doesn’t bother to speak up. Her life takes an exciting turn when she finds out she is a witch and she get’s to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. At school, she soon gets over her reservations and lets her goofy freak flag fly. Throughout her Hogwarts career, the one thing that plagues her carefree spirit is her completely inappropriate crush.OrI want to live out my fantasy of being a background Hufflepuff :)





	1. Year 1- Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you guys think! Critiques welcome <3
> 
> I'm rating it mature just to be safe.

**Year 1- Part 1**

The art classroom at Shetland Stone Elementary was thick with the warm scent of crayons and acrylic paint. It bubbled with the squealing chatter of antsy fifth graders. Mrs. Kennedy was a mousy, librarian-ish woman who was unfortunate enough to be responsible for controlling this particularly rambunctious group of children while still trying to cram some sort of knowledge and practice of the fine arts into their heads.

“Today, I want us to practice what we’ve learned about subject, foreground, and background,” she had squeaked as confidently as she could when her students had taken their seats, “I want each of you to draw a scene of a picnic on a hillside, and make sure you show me those three elements. You can draw anybody you want at your picnic. They can be eating whatever you can imagine, too. This assignment is supposed to be fun, so I don’t want to hear any complaining. I want to see you working hard, not hardly working! Crayons and poster paper are already at your tables, so chop chop!”

So of course, ten minutes later, Mrs. Kennedy was sprinting back and forth across the room, trying to keep the amount of crayons sailing through the air to a minimum, shouting desperate requests for everybody to use their inside voices, and had completely given up the notion that her lesson might have actually been educational that day.

At one of the round wooden tables in the back of the room, two boys named Aiden Turner and Mitchell Brooks were not doing anything to assuage Mrs. Kennedy’s stress levels. Aiden took a red crayon in his left hand and a black crayon in his right, then scribbled loop after loop on his paper, making revving and crashing noises as if the crayons were racecars. After his red crayon took a particularly devastating hit and slid across the table, he glanced over at Mitchell’s paper.

“What are you drawing? A yellow pig?”

“No, come on, it’s Pikachu! He’s going to be eating a radioactive hamburger and drinking a cup of Chemical X!”

“Dude, what is that, from Powerpuff Girls? That’s so lame, man.”

“What? Well you were the one who knew it was from Powerpuff Girls. You’re lame.”

“I’m telling you, Power Rangers is a sick show, the blue ranger blasted Squatt, and the red ranger punched Baboo in the same episode,” Aiden argued.

“Nah that show is for little kids. That’s what my dad says,” jeered Mitchell.

Loretta Baker, a wiry girl with wide green eyes, let the boy’s conversation entertain her while she worked on her project. 'Etta had drawn a blanket for the foreground and was working on a cooked lobster as the subject. She thought the lobster would look more interesting than the sandwiches that everyone else was doing.

“Hey Etta,” Mitchell prompted, “Do you think Aiden is a baby for watching Power Rangers?”

“I don’t think watching a TV show makes you a baby or an adult,” Etta said.

This was not the response Mitchell was fishing for at all.

“Whatever,” he said, then promptly engaged Aiden in a crayon-throwing fight.

Etta went back to her lobster. She wasn’t really interested in the boys’ or anyone’s conversation, but was glad to have the background noise. It wasn’t that she disliked the other children, or she felt misunderstood and left out- no, nothing like that. She was simply more interested in drawing her lobster than socializing.

She was just finishing up the eyes on her lobster as Mr. Ryan, her homeroom teacher, arrived in the classroom and started chatting to Miss Kennedy. He was there to walk the students back to his own classroom. Shetland Elementary had this rule that the children needed supervision even in the hallways.

Miss Kennedy called for everyone to bring their pictures up to the front of the class, but she continued her conversation with him, sparing minimal attention the artwork piling up in her hands. Etta had lost track of class time, and was disappointed she hadn’t been able to draw a background and finish the assignment properly. She got in line with her classmates and thought, _Oh well, my art class grade isn’t too important._

When it was her turn to hand in her assignment, Miss Kennedy glanced at her picture and exclaimed, “Oh Sweetie, how interesting!” in a coddling tone.

 _Huh?_ Etta thought. She didn’t do the assignment properly. Why was Miss Kennedy praising her?

As she joined the rest of the class in the hallway, she heard Mr Ryan tell Miss Kennedy in a voice not meant to reach Etta’s ears, “That girl is great. She is so quiet. It’s refreshing. I swear, I might strangle some of the others before summer break.”

Etta furrowed her brows on the way back to homeroom. She felt a flash of annoyance, but took her a few steps to figure out why. _I do more things than just ‘be quiet,’_ she thought, quite insulted. A strong wave of frustration coursed through her mind, and her ears turned red. At that exact moment, a high pitched whine filled the school. All the students in the hallway clutched their ears and looked at the speaker near the ceiling.

The voice of the principal crackled over the speakers a few seconds later. “I’m sorry about the technical difficulties, everyone. Our PA system must be out of date. Carry on with classes as usual.”

Etta couldn’t remember there ever being technical difficulties in her school before. She shrugged, and took a seat in her homeroom. By the end of the day, she had forgotten the whole thing.

 

\---

 

Etta smiled as she saw the silver SUV come around the turn and inch toward her in the line of cars waiting to pick up respective students in the parking lot outside the school. The passenger door opened and a middle aged woman in a crisp suit greeted her as she climbed into the car.

“How was school, Honey?” Mrs. Baker asked.

“Good, we started reading this book,” she pulled it out of her backpack, “ _A Midsummers Night’s Dream Abridged for Kids-_ by William Shakespeare and abridged by Samantha Pennyworth. It’s great it has faeries and adventure and it’s kind of funny. Maybe I can be an author when I grow up.”

“I’m so glad you are interested in school, Honey. You will be a great addition to Mommy’s and Daddy’s consulting company when you grow up!” She patted her daughter on the back. “Can you imagine having to re-write stories from old dead guys like poor Miss Pennyworth!?” She gave a short laugh.

Etta gave a little giggle and looked at her feet as they stopped at a stop sign. Actually, Etta thought writing stories with faeries would be fun, but it didn’t cross her mind say so to her mother.

The familiar jiggle of the car indicated the car had crossed over the lip of the Baker’s driveway. Mrs. Baker put the car in park and Etta jogged up to through the front door, backpack bouncing. Etta kicked off her shoes under the “Welcome” plaque decorated with angels and floral located in the front hallway.

“Mark, we’re home” Mrs. Baker called. Mr. Baker came into the hallway, a frown replacing his usually confident grin. Mrs. Baker’s polished, chipper expression faltered at the look on her husband’s expression. A second later, a severe looking woman with hair tied back into a slick bun followed Mr. Baker into the hallway. The woman’s dark, imposing robes looked very out of place in front of a pastel, beach themed wallpaper.

“Well who is this?” Mrs. Baker asked, perplexed.

Although she internally judged the woman for dressing so eccentric, she still wanted the stranger to think her confident and put together.   

“I am Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” said the woman. Mrs. Baker’s eyebrow travelled up her forehead. “Why don’t you all take a seat. I’m afraid I don’t have as much time as I would like to explain everything.” The four people took a seat at the kitchen table. Minerva took a deep breath and looked Etta in the eyes. “My dear, you are a witch.”

Etta’s face broke into a huge smile. The smile didn’t leave her face, even as her parents called the woman crazy. Even when her mother told the woman that she was “too well mannered and sensible to be a witch.”

Mr. and Mrs. Baker continued to dismiss the story in short condescending tones. After what seemed to be the fortieth time Minerva attempted to give the couple a calm explanation, she pinched the bridge of her nose in strained patience. Then, she abruptly changed into a tabby cat and back to human. Clinging to each other in shock, Etta’s parents did not interrupt her for the rest of her explanation of the wizarding world, muggles, and the statute of secrecy.

Professor McGonagall, as she requested to be addressed, knelt down to talk to Etta directly. She gave Etta a wax sealed envelope which contained her welcome letter and directions to the Hogwarts Express. She apologized for not being able to stay to answer more questions before she left the kitchen.

Etta ran to window and pressed her face up to the glass to see which way the professor would go. However, she looked in every direction and could only see her neighbor mowing the lawn.

The elder Bakers looked a little shaken as they went to sit on the couch in the living room. Etta, still grinning, bounded onto the room to sit with them.

“Well, you seem to be happy about this,” Mrs. Baker smiled weakly at her daughter. Etta nodded. “I guess this beats the bicycle I was going to surprise you with for your birthday on Saturday.” The family laughed.

Etta couldn’t sleep that night. She lay in her bed holding the welcome letter and reading it over and over again. She didn’t know how she was going to bear waiting through the last month of school and the whole summer until she could go to Hogwarts.


	2. Year 1 - Part 2

**Year 1 - Part 2**

Etta had to promise her parents three times that she could find Platform 9 ¾ by herself, and she would be good at school, and she would write, before they let her leave at King's Cross Station. If any of the Baker’s had wet eyes as Etta walked away with her trolley, none of them would admit it. 

With only a little wandering, and following other families carrying owls through the train station and through the brick barrier, Etta reached the Hogwarts Express Platform. She slowly maneuvered through the crowd.  She managed to hear snippets of different conversations from different families between the hooting of owls and the occasional toad croak. “I don’t want any more letters this year saying your marks are slipping.”  _ Hoot Hoot,   _ “Look, Mom! I can see —” “Be quiet, Ginny, and it’s rude to point.”  _ Ribbit Ribbit,  _ “Don’t forget your new scales!”  Then, a black cat streaked passed Etta’s feet which caused her to lose her balance and stumble into a small huddle of people.

“Are you alright dear?” asked an elderly woman with styled white hair in the huddle. “These kids need to keep track of their animals better.” Etta nodded shyly at the ground. 

“Is this your first year at Hogwarts?” Asked a different witch from the group. Etta did the shy nod again. “It’s my Holly’s first year too!”

Holly, an elegant girl with straight, straw colored hair, grabbed both of Etta’s hands. “Aren’t you so excited!?” She asked directly to Etta’s face. Holly’s energy was infectious. Etta gave a great smile back.

“Oh see Holly, you didn’t need to worry about making friends. You’re not even on the train yet, and you’re well on your way to your first one,” said the mother, presumptuously. “My name is Gayle Kent. My mother, Sharon, and I came to see Holly and her brother off to school. My Jake is going into his third year, and he is a Gryffindor.” The lanky boy standing sulkily to the side of the group gave a short hair flip in acknowledgment.  

“What’s your name, Sweetie?” asked Sharon.

“Loretta Baker, ma’am.” 

“Baker, huh? I haven’t heard that surname before. Does that mean you’re a muggleborn?”

“Mother!” Gayle interrupted, “You know that’s not appropriate to ask!”

“Yes, my parents are muggles,” Etta replied anyway, unbothered.

“So tell me, did you find it weird growing up with muggles?” Sharon asked.

“Well I’m not sure. I didn’t know there was a non-weird way to grow up.” she answered genuinely.

Holly gave a loud laugh, “You’re funny! Let’s go find seats together” she said, grabbing Etta’s hand again. 

Once both Kent children got their goodbye kisses, Etta was being dragged towards the train. She caught more excited fragments of conversations in the train hallway as they looked for an open compartment. “I can’t wait to try out these new Filibuster Fireworks” and “I don’t know, I couldn't see his forehead properly through his fringe!”

After a few minutes of shuffling, the pair found a compartment with only one boy already sitting. He had a patch of chestnut ringlets on the top of his head and a pair of globe like, ice blue eyes. Those eyes seemed to be a little red around the rims, however. 

“Hi, I’m Holly and this is Loretta. Who are you? Are you in first year, too?” She babbled as she bounced onto a seat. 

“I’m Greg Dodson. Nice to meet you Holly and Loretta.”

“Um, actually, I like to be called Etta.” 

“Oh, why didn’t you say so before?” Holly asked, interrupting whatever Greg was about to say. “I know Jake would just kill anyone who called him Jacob.” And she went on a bit about her family, and what Jake said would happen during the sorting ceremony, and how her father was called into the ministry that day so he couldn’t come to see them off. Then she prompted Etta to talk about her family.

Etta explained that her parents were business consultants, and she hardly knew what muggle business consultants do. Then, Etta asked Greg, “So what about your parents?”

Greg’s eyes got a little redder. “They’re really great and I kinda miss them a lot,” his voice wavered and he shut his mouth quickly.

“It’s okay, I cried too when my parents dropped me off in front of King's Cross,” assured Etta. “Here, I have just the thing to make you feel better.” She pulled out a bag of gummy worms from her bag and put a handful on Greg’s lap. She stuck one in her mouth and said with a lisp, “You can eat them and also make funny faces with them.” Then she shoved two worms up her nostrils and crossed her eyes. Holly barked out laughter and Greg couldn’t help but grin.

“Wait until you see the wizard candy! Jake said we can buy some from the trolley when it comes around.” The trio spent the rest of the trip learning about Greg’s parents that work at St. Mungo’s, testing their luck with Bertie Bott’s, and swapping silly stories.

 

\---

 

Etta’s mind was reeling when she finally sat down at her house table. There was so much to take in; from stepping off the train to be greeted by a kind giant, taking a freezing cold boat ride, seeing the enormous castle, and then putting on a silly hat in front of everybody. The hat told her she was a Hufflepuff and announced it to the crowd. Thankfully, she didn’t scream like she wanted to when the hogwarts ghosts appeared in the hall. Also, Etta hurt her neck a little bit by staring straight upwards at the ceiling enchanted to look like the stormy sky. She was glad to let Holly talk when the headmaster had finished his speech. Etta busied herself in tasting as many of the foods that magically appeared as she could. 

“I’m just so glad we all were sorted into the same house! Don’t you think so Greg?” 

He nodded. Holly continued to talk, taking quick bites every now and then. She started to relay what she knew from Jake about each teacher that was sitting at the staff table. Of course, Etta recognized Professor McGonagall from when she gave her the letter. They had all just met the groundskeeper, Hagrid. Holly pointed out Flitwick and, then their Head of House, Professor Sprout. 

“And then there is Quirrell, he’s the one wearing the turban. He teaches Defense against the Dark Arts, but Jake says he isn’t very brave” continued Holly before she stopped to sip some pumpkin juice.

“Who is that teacher in the black cloak? The one behind Quirrell’s turban.” asked Etta.

“That is Severus Snape, the potions master,” replied Holly.

“What an interesting name!” exclaimed Etta.

“Jake said he likes his house, the Slytherins, but to everybody else he is the meanest person in the whole world,” she said emphatically.

“I don’t know if I believe he can be the meanest person in the  _ whole _ world,” said Etta. Holly shrugged and finished naming all the professors. 

Then, the trio introduced themselves to the rest of the Hufflepuff first years. Susan Bones was nice, and Eddie Macmillan was a little full of himself, but good spirited.  After the last of the desserts disappeared, the house prefect gathered all of these first years up and brought them out of the way and into the corridor to form a huddle. 

“My name is Gabriel, and I am one of the fifth-year prefects for Hufflepuff house. Feel free to come to me if you have any questions throughout the year,” He began. He continued to explain only Hufflepuffs are magically able to enter the common room, and how to find the entrance. As the first years listened to Gabriel, the Slytherin first years started trickling out of the Great Hall, following their prefect. 

Suddenly, Greg grabbed Holly’s arm and whispered, “Is that Blaise Zabini?”

“Yes it is, I recognize him from Witch Weekly.” Holly replied conspiratorially. 

“Oh I always follow the stories about his mother! Her life seems fabulous,” gushed Greg. 

Blaise, the attractive, dark skinned Slytherin, and his friend with blonde, slicked back hair pointed at something above the group of Hufflepuffs. Etta looked up to see a vibrant man with curled toed shoes was floating over their heads. 

“Peeves welcomes the wee Puffy firsties with wee slimey bombsies!” And then the man dropped several small objects which burst, covering the Hufflepuffs with green, sticky slime. Blaise and the blonde boy doubled over with laughter as their prefect ushered them away from the scene, smirking. Greg’s face was burning red under the slime as he watched Blaise walk away. Peeves cackled and swooped down to hover in front of Etta’s face. 

“Does Puffy firsty feel welcome?” he asked. Etta just smiled and looked at the ground, not wanting to meet his eyes. “Goodnight, no talky- firsty!” and then he vanished. 

“Come on everyone,” Gabriel said sympathetically, “Let’s get to the Hufflepuff basement. We’ll get some upper years to help clean you up when we reach the common room.”

The group made their squelchy way towards the kitchens. 


	3. Year 1- Part 3

**Year 1- Part 3**

Holly and Etta met Greg at the Hufflepuff table for breakfast the next morning, properly de-slimed.

“It looks like all first years go to the same classes with their houses.” Holly said, referencing the schedules professor Sprout had handed out, “So today we have Charms and Herbology, then after lunch, Potions and Transfiguration.”

After Etta had eaten as many jam smothered toasts as she could, the three friends headed off to their first day of school. The first two classes went by slowly. There was a lot to process. The teachers did a lot of talking. Professor Flitwick seemed like an agreeable teacher. Etta was excited that she would actually be able cast magic with her wand in this class. However, Etta stopped listening to some long descriptions of class rules, and instead read the titles off the spines of the books the professor was standing on. Professor Sprout made a few mildly-funny jokes that almost made Etta laugh. She was ready to get her hands dirty for that class. After lunch, she prepared her mind for another long lecture as they made their way towards the dungeons.

Etta and Holly found seats two rows back and towards the middle of the dimly lit dungeon with the other Hufflepuffs. The Ravenclaws sat mostly on the left side of the room.

“Ooo it’s creepy in this classroom,” Holly said, shivering, “I don’t like it.”

Etta gazed around at the pickled animals in jars that decorated the walls.

“I don’t know, it is a little dreary for my taste. But, it does have a bit of mystery to it, doesn’t it?” she said in a fake spooky voice, flaring her hands dramatically.

Hannah snickered, then lowered her voice and furrowed her eyebrows.

“I hope Professor Snape isn’t as mean as people say he is,” she said, “Jake was exaggerating, right? He can’t be _that_ bad.”

“He will probably be fine today. He’ll probably just review the class expectations like Flitwick and Sprout did, anyway,” Etta assured her.

Holly agreed. The pair chatted about Holly’s brightly colored quill as they waited for the professor to arrive.

Etta jumped in her seat as the dungeon doors banged open. A wave of butterflies swarmed through her stomach for the briefest of moments. Sheer surprise from the sudden sharp, forceful noise sent a numbing, icy sensation through her veins. She turned with the rest of the class to see the source of the noise. The man’s steps were firm and quick, but the imposing billow of his cloak made Etta’s mind see him walking in slow motion. The sleeves on his robes ended right below his knuckles, making his hand movements exaggerated. His robe’s many center buttons reached high up his neck. His thin mouth, beak nose, and curtain of dark hair was so different from anyone she had seen before.

“This year I will provide you with the fundamental skills that you will need to make any iota of success in potion making. Whether or not you gain these skills is up to you.” Every sound and every silence was poignant. “Now I am hopeful you will not be as disappointed as your schoolmates before you, but my reality has only ever fallen short of my expectations.”

Etta, too, was not experiencing what she had expected when she had entered the classroom. She had planned to let her mind wander as some standard waffle speech about the class syllabus droned on. Instead, her thoughts remained in the present. She forgot about the world beyond this dungeon. The words Snape spoke consumed her mind.

“Bewitching the mind” _Oh, that hasn’t already happened?_ “Ensnaring the senses” _totally understand, even if I don’t know what ensnare means, “_ bottle fame, brew glory, _” yes, I agree._

Then, referencing the class roster he addressed, “Mr. Macmillan. What are the uses of a bezoar?”

“I don’t know, Sir,” Ernie stammered.

“If you were not such a dunderhead and had managed to pick up your book, you would know a bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons,” Snape corrected. “Ms. Baker!” the surprise butterflies returned, “What ingredient would I mix with asphodel to make the sleeping potion known as the Draught of the Living Death?”

“Well,” Etta began shakily. Snape stared at her expectantly. “I remember reading about the sleeping potion in my book, one of the ingredients had a name that was an animal and a material. Is it Beetlestone?”

“That is incorrect, there is no such ingredient. The correct answer is Wormwood,” he barked. Then added reluctantly, “Although, at least you show the most minimal potential of logical thought.”

Snape asked a few more pop questions to the students before starting his lecture. Etta found herself mesmerized by his words, even if some descriptions of the power of potions were gruesome. She thought his speech was somewhat poetic. It was obvious how much respect he had for the art.

When the time came to leave, the class moved quickly to gather their things and leave the dungeon. Greg, Holly and Etta didn’t start talking until they were far enough down the hallway.

“Ooo he is very mean. Jake was right,” Holly seethed.

“It’s our first class and he started yelling at us!” Agreed Greg, “Even you, Etta!”

“Yes, he was different than the other professors who don’t really do anything hard on the first day,” reasoned Etta, “but he actually listened to what I thought when I worked out his question.”

“You’re so weird, Etta,” Holly teased.

Then, she threw her arms around Etta and Greg’s shoulders. They walked connected like that all the way to their next class.

 

\---

 

Etta spent the week in quiet awe as she was introduced to new magic concepts that were not so novel to her friends with wizard parents. For example, during their second ever charms class, Greg and Holly found it more interesting to gossip about the latest article about the Weird Sister’s new tattoos. Etta on the other hand, wanted to focus on making a solid object float by merely saying a few words and waving a stick. However, Greg did stop his description of where on the guitar player’s body the tattoo was located, when a misfired spell from Hannah Abbot caused his textbook to fly up and slam back down on his desk. Greg gave a high pitched yip and jumped a few feet from his desk as well. Professor Flitwick walked around the noisy room to see each student's’ progress and to give advice on the spell.

“Wingardium leviosa,” Etta said with a quick snap of her wrist and wave of her wand arm. The feather she was attempting to levitate merely quivered.

“Oh good try, my dear!” Flitwick encouraged, “You almost had it!”

“But why didn’t it float?” Etta asked, frustrated.

“You did a flick and swish motion. Next time, try for a swish and flick motion!” he answered before moving to the next student.

Her feather floated on her next try, but Flitwick didn’t see because he was scolding some boys for sword fighting with their feathers.

“How did you do that?” Asked Greg, who had not even got a wiggle out of his feather.

Etta put her feather up to her lip in imitation of Flitwick’s mustache. “Swish and flick.”

Greg and Holly had to stifle their laughs before focusing on their practice again.

 

\---

Etta lay sideways on her patchwork quilt comforter, staring at the low ceiling, with her legs dangling off the edge. Holly’s head rested next to Etta’s. She kicked her feet back and forth off the opposite edge of the bed. Tall grass danced in the moonlight outside the dormitory’s circular window. On the nightstand, a leafy potted plant swayed and hummed a soft tune as the girls chatted. It was nearly midnight, but they had just finished their first week at Hogwarts. They wanted to use this Friday night to discuss every detail of their week.

“You know, at home, plants don’t move from where you put them,” Etta said, “and they definitely can’t sing or anything.”

“Really? That’s weird,” Holly said, “But Professor Sprout seems to like you in Herbology!”

“Well, I was the only one not throwing dirt when you and that Finnigan kid started a dirt fight,” agreed Etta, “But I totally cut the wrong stem off our plant!”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” grinned Holly, “but you’re good at flying! And I know muggles don’t have flying brooms.”

“Yep, brooms stay on the ground and we use them just to clean,” Etta said. She could hardly contain her excitement when she blurted, “Oh but flying is wonderful. I always wanted to fly, but I didn’t think you could. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to make my broom go up. But then I did. I felt weightless. Like I can do anything.”

“Wow! I guess growing up with Quidditch, I didn’t think it was a big deal,” explained Holly, “My dad let me do circles in the air while he held onto the front of the broom from the ground. I think Greg has seen flying before, but he seemed a little afraid of heights in class. I hate potions class though, and Snape.”

“I don’t know, I kinda like that class,” admitted Etta.

“Etta! Snape is the only professor that has yelled at you!” Holly said incredulously.

“Yeah, but I already feel like I’ve learned a lot about potions. And Snape is,” Etta couldn’t find the right word, “cool.”

“Ugh no! He’s so mean! Just like a lot of the Slytherins,” Holly protested, “That blond kid, Malfoy, pulled Susan Bone’s braid in the hallway and Snape didn’t get him in trouble. It was awful, his two large friends were laughing so hard.”

“I’m sure Snape just didn’t see that. But you like History of Magic, and I think that class is boring,” Etta said, changing the subject.

The girls kept whispering into the night, until they both couldn’t keep their eyelids open. The potted plant on the nightstand made sure not to stop its lullaby until it was sure the two were asleep.  


	4. Year 1- Part 4

**Year 1 - Part 4**

Over the weekend, Holly, Etta and Greg explored the castle and the grounds. They tried to memorize the moving staircases’ routine, but they didn’t quite figure it out. They also walked a lap around the lake, and had interesting conversations with a few old portraits. 

In no time, Monday came and it was time to start their second week of classes. History of Magic really did prove a little hard to capture Etta’s attention. The class contained fascinating stories, however Professor Binns had a voice that made it hard for Etta to distinguish each of his words from the last. Holly was better at paying attention than Etta in this class. Holly explained that although she grew up in a magic family, her parents rarely talked about wizards that lived outside of the United Kingdom or wizards who lived longer than 100 years ago. 

The Hufflepuffs shared this class with the Slytherins. Etta did not like Malfoy, who she learned was very rich and full of himself. He was always saying mean things to the people in her house. 

Pre class chatter filled the classroom as students waited for Professor Bins to float through the blackboard. Holly and Etta sat down and got out their ink and quill. Greg plopped his bag on his desk next to Etta. However, when he sat down, a small explosion popped under his bottom, and he jumped up, letting out a sing song yelp. 

“Oh look, another scaredy-cat Hufflepuff,” drawled Malfoy.

“That wasn’t very nice,” muttered Etta.

“Aww, it was just a little inter-house pranking,” snickered Zabini.

“It’s just too much fun to mess with you guys,” Malfoy said pompously, “Everybody knows that Hufflepuffs are cowards.”

“Just because we don’t brag about everything, doesn’t mean we aren’t brave.” Holly said matter of fact, “Madam Hooch told Etta she was very courageous for being the only person in our class to do an upside down loop.” Etta blushed. 

“Oh I see, not only are you scaredy cats, but you are also teacher’s pets.” sneered Malfoy, “I bet you are too chicken to even break curfew.”

“We are not!” squawked Greg.

“Alright,” Malfoy said thoughtfully, “I know how the three of you can prove to me you aren’t cowards. Meet us at midnight, and one of you will race me in the black lake.”

“You’re on!” Holly said, quickly. 

Etta slapped her hand to her forehead.

“Really? But you know, if you don’t show up, we will have a new surprise for you every time you come to this class,” Malfoy said, grinning.

“Okay, but if we beat you in the race, you never pick on us again.” Holly said, sticking up her nose. 

“Deal, meet us by the tree that leans sideways by the lake. Don’t be late.” Holly and Draco shook hands.

 

\---

 

After dinner, Etta, Holly, and Greg sat in a circle of overstuffed armchairs chairs in the Hufflepuff Basement. 

“I’m so sorry guys,” Holly apologized, “I made that deal before I thought about it. I didn’t ask how you felt about breaking curfew.”

“That’s ok, Malfoy was being really mean,” said Etta. Greg didn’t say anything, but bit his nails frantically.

“Also, I never learned how to swim.” Holly admitted. 

“WHAT,” Greg squeaked.

“Daddy was more interested in teaching me how to fly,” shrugged Holly.

“I can swim,” Etta said, resigning herself to the task, “It’s actually really fun.”

“Oh you are the best!” gushed Holly. 

The trio stayed in the bean bags until half past eleven, discussing how to sneak to the lake. As planned, the three exited through the barrel tunnel, with Etta in the front to look over each corner, Greg behind her, and Holly behind him, ready to cover his mouth in case anything surprising happened and he felt the need to scream. 

The corridors felt more imposing at night than during school hours. Long shadows streaked the floor, caused by moonlight or torches. Occasional grunts and snuffles came from the inhabitants of portraits who were annoyed at being disturbed from their sleep. They finally made it to the great oak doors and opened it as slowly as possible in order to minimize creeks. 

The ground looked serene and haunting, with the moon and clear sky reflecting off the lake. Four silhouettes, two skinny and two fat, stood by an unbalanced looking tree, letting the Hufflepuffs know Malfoy and his gang had arrived. 

“Well well well, the goody two shoes actually showed up,” Malfoy sneered. Etta rolled her eyes. “You are going to swim in those long pants, Kent?”

“Actually, I will be swimming,” Etta stated as she took off her school robes which revealed pajama shorts and a tank top.

“Oh another surprise,” Malfoy mocked, “Well, I suppose I will explain the task. Zabini, hand me my orb.” Blaise held out an apple sized glowing white ball. It looked to be made of glass, but there were shimmery clouds swimming in the inside. “Father bought this for me to use when we visit the ocean. It floats on water, and obviously it is easy to spot because it glows. The race is simple. Crabbe will throw the orb and we will race to retrieve it and bring it back to shore. Got it?”

Etta nodded. Draco handed the orb to Crabbe, and then he took off his robes to reveal swim trunks and a tight long sleeve shirt. The pair walked up to the water line, and Crabbe lobbed the orb about fifty feet. Etta ran into the water and her body erupted in goose pimples. She stopped a second to shake her head to clear it, and then dunked her head under. When she surface she saw Draco beginning to swim. She immediately started a free stroke. Her lungs burned from the cold and intervals of no oxygen, but she willed her arms and legs to kick faster. 

She soon was level with Malfoy and then passed him so her feet were in front of his head. He noticed this and tried to grab her ankle, but she kicked him away. In just ten more strokes, her hand was closing around the glowing orb. Etta stopped to tread water and punch her other hand in the air in triumph. However, when she turned back to the shore, she couldn’t see any splashing water to indicate where Malfoy was swimming. 

She heard Zabini shouting Malfoy’s name. Panting, she called out, “What happened?” to the audience on shore. 

“We heard him yell and then he went under really fast!” yelled back Holly. Greg rocked back and forth on his toes and was squeezing Holly’s hand. Crabbe and Goyle were scratching their heads. “Etta, be careful, Jake said creatures live in the lake!”

Before Etta could roll her eyes because Holly failed to mention this before, she dove underwater, holding the orb in front of her. There were a few seconds of nothingness before Malfoy’s struggling form was revealed. A creature about the size of a toddler, with many tentacles for legs and an ugly face, had a hold of him and was attempting to drag him down further. Etta, still holding out the orb with her left hand, pulled her wand out of her shorts with her right hand and kicked forward. She couldn’t think of any spells she had learned in class that would help her in this situation. Using the rest of her air, she bubbled out, “Off!”

A rush of water hit the creature in the face. It didn’t seem to hurt the creature, but it frowned and shook its head in confusion. In that time, Etta had closed the distance between them, and swung her elbow as hard as she could at the ugly face. The creature reeled back and held a tentacle over its eye. 

Malfoy latched onto Etta’s waist, and Etta frogged her limbs as hard as she could up to the surface. They both coughed and spluttered when they reached the surface, but Malfoy refused to let go of Etta as she tried to swim back to shore. Malfoy flailed quite a lot, making her progress much slower than it could have been. He even smashed his hand into the orb so it shattered. Etta held onto a piece while the rest of the fragments sank. 

Draco finally let go when they reached two feet shallow water. Goyle lifted him by the arm to get him to his feet and dragged him to shore. Apparently Greg had been so nervous that he also latched his other hand onto Zabini’s. He let go of both hands so him and Holly could take one of Etta’s arms to walk her to dry land. 

“Merlin’s beard, you’re alive!” Greg squeaked. 

“That was actually awesome Etta!” Holly gushed. 

Malfoy was white faced and whined to Zabini about how he almost drowned. In a last-ditch effort to save face, he said, “I could have died, you stupid mudblood!” He was still coughing up lake water as he did, so no one took him too seriously. Zabini patted him consolingly on the back.

“We should get back to bed,” Suggested Greg. 

So, the odd crew of students headed back up to the castle. Etta continued to act as a lookout, now for the larger group. Unfortunately Malfoy was continuing to whimper loudly, which hindered their stealth. There was no one behind the great oak doors, but they ran into trouble on the second turn. A shabby cat slinked up to them, then turned around and streaked into another corridor. 

“Oh no!” exclaimed Holly, “ I think that’s Mrs. Norris! Jake says that she helps Filch catch rulebreakers!” 

The group ran in the opposite direction for three corridors with Etta in the lead. Then, she suddenly stopped and turned to Malfoy. The others stopped out of shock of the abrupt movement. Etta grabbed Malfoy by the collar and looked straight into his face. 

“Will you be quiet! Stop whining or we’ll get caught, you narcissistic, disgusting git!” She growled. Malfoy was silent and dumbstruck. 

A loud pop startled the group. Peeves the poltergeist was floating over their heads. 

“Naughty Naughty!” He sang. 

“Come on. Let’s go,” Zabini said to Malfoy. Crabbe grabbed Malfoy by the arm and the Slytherins headed presumably in the direction of their common room. 

Peeves floated in front of Etta. “What fun! No-talkey firsty is meany shouty!”

“Shhhhh” Holly tried, “Filch will hear you!” Peeves ignored her.

“Why are you no talky in the daytime?” He asked Etta, “It’s much more better to be shouty always than to be pouty, mousey!”

Instead of ignoring Peeves and tailing it to the kitchens like she should have done, Etta considered the question and responded. 

“Well, at home I’m afraid people will think I’m weird if I talk like I want to.” Certainly her parents thought her interests were strange before they new she was a witch. 

“Well at Hogywarts, I’mma a poltergeist and you is a warty, warty witch. Ain’t nothing you can find to be weirder than we! Weeee.”

Etta crossed her arms and looked Peeves square in the face, “Okay, how about this. I will be loud during the daytime if you will go distract Filch so we can get back to our dormitory.”

“What funsies! Peavsie wins!” Then he spat in his hand and held it out. Etta spat in hers and confidently grasped the loogie filled hand she was offered. 


	5. Year 1- Part 5

**Year 1- Part 5**

Etta, Greg, and Holly made their way the Hufflepuff table for breakfast with baggy eyes, and smiles from their late night adventure. It was a little earlier than most students came down to breakfast, so only a smattering of students were at each table. Not surprisingly, Malfoy and his gang were not present. Etta was about to sit down to devour a blueberry muffin, when Professor McGonagall intercepted her.

“Ms. Baker, dear,” she said, placing a hand on her back, and directing Etta a few steps out of earshot of the other students, “Last evening I was running an errand in Hogsmeade, and I stopped by the muggle post. Your parents wrote to ask how you are doing. Your mother is worried you may have trouble talking to your classmates.”

“Oh not at all, I’m fine Professor. Don’t worry about me!” Etta reassured.

“Are you sure, many professors have noticed that you are quite quiet. If you would like an ear, you are always welcome to come to me or Professor Sprout if you need help adjusting.”

“I’m sure!” Etta beamed. Then she turned on her heel and skipped back to her seat. When she sat down between Greg and Holly her stomach made a loud growl. “I’m starving from all that physical activity. I could eat a whole dragon.” She exclaimed.

“Oh please, you’re so tiny!” Ernie Macmillan butted in, “You couldn’t even eat two muffins.”

“We’ll see about that.” Etta retorted. She stood up on the bench, cleared her throat, and in an impression of a town crier she announced, “Attention my fellow Hufflepuffs. You have gathered here today thinking this will be another ordinary day at Hogwarts. But nay, today is the day you will have witnessed I, Loretta Baker, consume this entire platter of muffins, count them, twelve muffins, in under five minutes. Greg! If you would be so kind as to start the countdown.”

As Etta stuffed her face, a few Hufflepuffs giggled and other looked apprehensive but amused. Most of the other students in the hall weren’t paying attention, but a few Ravenclaws rolled their eyes. Two identical looking Gryffindors with flaming red hair had taken notice and were banging on the table in sync and chanting, “Eat, Eat, Eat.”

She swallowed the last bite just in time and grabbed a goblet of pumpkin juice to wash it down. There was a light clatter of applause from the Hufflepuff table again with a few giggles. The two Gryffindor boys wolf whistled and cheered. Up at the staff table, Professor McGonagall had her forehead in her palms and was shaking her head.

Etta stood on her bench again and theatrically started bowing to her “fans.” She turned around to bow to the people behind her, but she was startled to see Professor Snape standing a few feet away, looking at her with one eyebrow raised. Apparently he had walked into the Great Hall when she was bowing the other way. She jumped down from the bench and looked up to his face with a fake innocent smile. He continued standing their with his eyebrow raised for another second, then swiftly continued on to the staff table.

 

\---

It wasn’t long until the leaves on the trees in the grounds turned golden. Students started to keep extra layers on hand in case there was a draft in the hallways.

There was universal excitement for the Halloween spirit surging through the students and staff. Etta, Holly, and Greg entered the Great Hall with empty stomachs, ready to fill them with sugar for the Halloween feast. Etta’s jaw dropped when she saw a wave of bats fly overhead. There had to be over a thousand bats in the formation.  

“At home we dress up in costumes for Halloween,” informed Etta.

“That’s so interesting,” said Holly, “What costumes have you worn?”

“I was actually a witch with a big wart nose two years ago,” Etta replied. The few Hufflepuffs around them snickered at the irony.

Justin Finch-Fletchley, another muggleborn boy in their grade, was among that group. “I was a Jedi last year.” He interjected.

“What on earth is a Jedi?” asked Greg. Justin went on to describe those movies. Over his explanation, Etta grabbed a liquorice wand, and made light saber “byzshoom,” noises while swishing it around.

Once Justin and Etta explained the Star Wars saga as best as they could, they then had to explain the concept of movies to their wizard raised classmates, who were flabbergasted.

Etta found a pause in the conversation where she could pick up a large piece of fudge. However, before she could sink her teeth into it…

“Troll! Troll in the dungeon!”

Etta, having no basis for how dangerous a troll could be, nervously stuffed the entire piece of fudge in her mouth. Seeing everyone neglect the dinner table in lieu of panicking, she stuffed handfuls of candy in her pockets for later.

Professor Dumbledore magicked some firecrackers to go off from his wand and was able to give instructions to hall. Gabriel the Prefect yelled for the first years to line up at the front of the hall. “I’m going to go through roll to make sure I have everyone,” he informed them as calmly as he could.

Greg held on to Holly and Etta’s arms as they hurried over to get in line. They gathered in front of the staff table. Gabriel started reading down his list of names.

“What’s going on?” Greg hissed.

“I don’t know,” Etta hissed back.

The staff were hurriedly making their way out from the staff table and to the hallway. Professors McGonagall and Sinestra chose a path around the line by looping around Gabriel. Professor Snape chose a more direct route and strode straight through the queue of Hufflepuffs. There were a few feet between Etta and Justin, so Snape walked between the two of them. Etta was not expecting the action because she was listening to Gabriel, so she lost her balance a little.

Snape had his intentions focused on his task, but he placed his hand on Etta’s shoulder as he passed so she stayed on both feet. Etta noticed how his hand reached from her shoulder to half way down her arm. The touch was hasty but firm. Etta’s eyes followed his steps as he spanned the rest of the hall and to the doors, is cape billowing with every stride.  

Etta let her feet take her wherever Greg and Holly were walking as they stressfully whispered to each other. She still felt five pressure points burning holes in her arm until she came to her senses in the common room, where what seemed like the entirety of Hufflepuff house was discussing their conspiracies about the troll.


	6. Year 1- Part 6

**Year 1- Part 6**

Elbows knocked and toes crunched as a crowd of students bustled down to the Quidditch match. Most of the crowd, including Holly, Etta, and Greg, donned red and gold to support Gryffindor. However, the Slytherins’ spirit stuck out in a mob of silver and green. The trio enjoyed the atmosphere as the masses jostled and swept them along toward the pitch.

“So, is it normal for giant smelly trolls to break into Hogwarts?” Etta asked.

“No!” answered Holly enthusiastically. “Actually, this year is very abnormal, even to Hogwarts standards. Haven’t you heard?” Etta raised an eyebrow. “Harry Potter is a first year as well. He’s in Gryffindor!”

“And that’s special…?” Etta said, leaving a pause for the given _hello, muggleborn here_. Greg gave an incredulous gasp.

“Holly! She doesn’t know who Harry Potter is! Ooo I want to explain.” Greg said excitedly.

He told Etta about how when this Potter kid was a baby, something special happened and he defeated a dark lord. The dark lord was terrorizing the wizarding world, but Greg and Holly said Etta would have to wait to learn his name until they could get some parchment so they could write down his name.

“Wow, that’s insane,” Etta said. Just when she thought she was getting used to all these new wizarding facts.

“Do you want to know something,” Greg said conspiratorially, “Before Halloween, I was walking by Harry and his friends at breakfast, and they were talking. Apparently, Malfoy dared them to meet Harry after hours too, but Malfoy stood him up!”

“Malfoy didn’t go? Why not? He met up with us!” Holly exclaimed.

“Well the Gryffindors seemed to think Malfoy was setting up Potter to get detention.” Greg informed.

“Ha, yeah. And now he’s scared of getting beat again,” barked Etta.

The trio and the rest of the Hufflepuffs reached the edge of the Quidditch pitch. They climbed the tall stairs leading to their seats in the yellow and black checkered area. Etta’s head spun at the vastness of the field. The two teams zoomed over their heads. Each player exuded a sort of confidence and power as they took their starting positions, glaring fiercely at the opposing team with jaws set, red and green cloaks billowing.

“I want to do Quidditch,” Etta said bluntly.

“Ooh no, I would be too nervous,” Greg replied.

“That’s him, Etta. Harry Potter!” Holly pointed at the small, dark haired boy Etta had seen passing in the hallway, “He’s the seeker, the most important player on the team.”

“Well doesn’t sunshine come out of his butt,” Etta interjected. Greg laughed but looked around, making sure no adults were around, “But that seems a like a boring position to play, just searching for a tiny ball the entire game.”

“But, the chasers do a lot of stuff. They try to score goals,” said Holly, pointing at the appropriate players, “and the beaters protect their teammates from those crazy bludgers and smack them towards the other team.”

“I think I would have fun doing that the most,” Etta pondered aloud, “Hitting the bludgers with a bat sounds the most exciting, and I would be supporting my teammates.”

The trio continued to discuss their future Quidditch careers. Holly and Greg filled Etta in on their favorite professional teams.

Then, the Potter kid made a sharp move on his broomstick.

“Woah, he almost fell off with that,” Greg said, biting his nails.

Etta and Holly were surprised to see that Greg’s worries were correct. Harry’s flight became jerky and sporadic.  

“Is that normal?”

Etta found herself asking this question often since school had started.

“No it’s not,” Holly replied.

All eyes were on the Gryffindor seeker. He barely clung to his broomstick. As the broom rocketed past the teacher’s section, something caught Etta’s eyes. A tiny plume of smoke puffed out of the crowd. Her gaze followed the trail of smoke. It led to the teacher’s section. More specifically, it led to Snape’s dark, imposing form, which was unmistakable even from the opposite side of the quidditch pitch. Then, Etta’s breath caught with alarm. Small flames licked and danced across the bottom of Snape’s dark cloak.

An irrational bought of worry seized her chest. What if he couldn’t exit the stands quickly if the fire grew? She saw him limping the day before. He awkwardly tried to stomp out the flames without putting pressure on his bad foot.

She temporarily lost sight of the potion’s master when Professor Quirrell and his large turban stumbled in front of him. The fire was gone by the time Quirrell stepped away. Etta let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“Gryffindor won! Harry caught the snitch!” Greg shouted, grabbing Etta’s arm and shaking her.

She snapped her attention back to the action on the field. She joined in cheering with the rest of the crowd.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

On the next Wednesday following the match, Holly, Etta, and Greg found themselves in the dungeons again for potions class. They were making an Herbicide potion, which was easy but tedious due to its 45 minute brewing time. They simply had to supervise it to make sure the temperature stayed the same.

Etta was bugging Greg and Holly to tell her anything they knew about famous beaters.

“I like Rommy Kane,” said Holly, “He just signed on as a beater with Italy’s team. He is the first known werewolf to play Quidditch professionally. I was so excited when I read that in the Prophet. My mom didn’t like it, though.”

Greg interrupted by opening his vile of flobberworm mucus and gagging.

“Oh come on, this stuff is harmless,” Etta said, pointing at the line in her textbook.

She got a glob of the mucus on her finger and flicked it at Greg. He frantically shook his robe to get it off.

“Miss Baker,” Snape growled from right behind Etta.

All the other students in the class would have cowered under his gaze. Etta turned around and looked directly up at him.

“Yes,” she said, one hand on her hip.

“There will be no disrespect of ingredients in this class. I will not tolerate behavior like what you just displayed,” he said.

“I’m not slacking off,” Etta said, “ My potion is the correct consistency and color, and it looks way better than Justin’s.”

Snape’s head turned to look at Justin’s potion. It was bubbling and emitting a slight scent of urine. Snape closed his eyes for a second Etta swore she heard him let out a quiet frustrated moan. Then he turned his attention back to her.

“I do not disagree that your potion is satisfactory,” he said, “However, you ran the risk of contaminating other’s work. Additionally, I want you to treat every ingredient in this class like it is dangerous. In the future, we will be using potent ingredients.”

Etta put her finger to her mouth in consideration.

“I understand,” she said after a pause, “I won’t do it again.”

Snape raised his eyebrow in annoyance. Something in his expression made it seem like he would like to retort with something nasty. However, he mustered enough patience to respond to her.

“See that you don’t,” he gritted out.

He turned on his heel to go scold Justin. When he was out of earshot, Greg let out an almost silent scream to Holly and Etta.

“Merlin, that was scary,” he said.

“Pshhh, no it wasn’t,” Etta said as she checked the temperature on her potion again.

Holly grabbed Etta by the shoulders and looked at her directly in the eye.

“You are insane.”

 


	7. Year 1- Part 7

**Year 1- Part 7**

“So let me get this straight,” Etta said, “Professor Quirrell, who could barely work up his courage to call on kids raising their hands, was trying to steal that Philosopher’s Stone thing?”

It was the day before students would get on the Hogwarts Express. Holly, Etta, and Greg wanted to spend some time together and take advantage of the spring air in the grounds. They found a spot under a tree to spread out. Etta was completely dumbfounded by the news of Harry Potter’s late night adventures. Etta had no idea where Holly had heard this news, but the entire student body seemed to be talking about it.

“I know, it’s crazy!” said Holly, “I can’t believe all this was happening without us knowing.”

As they talked, Etta picked up a rock and a stick. Since November, she had grown into the habit of hitting a rock with a stick whenever she was outside. She wanted to improve her aim for one day becoming a beater. 

“Yeah,” Greg agreed, “ I heard a bunch of the teachers were in on it, too. They did things to try to protect the stone.”

Etta hit a specific branch with a rock.

“I wonder what things they did,’ she said.

“I don’t really know how they went about protecting it, but I know Professors Sprout, McGonagall, and Snape all had something to do with it,” replied Greg. 

Etta grinned.

“Ha! I bet Snape is so mad about Gryffindor winning of Slytherin at the last second,” said Holly. 

The three Hufflepuffs looked at a spot a short distance away where Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini, and Parkinsons were sitting. Malfoy caught them looking.

“What are you Huffledorks looking at,” Malfoy sneered. 

He strode toward the trio. The rest of the Slytherins dutifully followed. 

“Oh, nothing,” Etta said against her better judgement, “Just a bunch of House cup losers.”

In response, Malfoy magicked some water from the lake to come up and splash Greg. 

“Hey, I didn’t say anything,” Greg whined. 

Malfoy made a nasty smug face. Zabini laughed at Greg’s pouty face. 

“Yeah, and I thought we agreed you wouldn’t pick on us anymore since I won the swimming race,” Etta said.

“That deal is off because you did not bring the entire orb back to shore,” Malfoy said.

“What! That’s because you were acting incompetent and broke it while I was saving you,” Etta yelled back, as she magicked a bit of water herself back at Malfoy.

Naturally, a water fight broke out between the two groups. After a few splashes, Etta and Holly forgot being mad, and just got into the game. Greg focused all his attacks on Zabini, letting out giddy shrieks whenever he returned the favor. Zabini raised his eyebrow and chuckled. Malfoy, however, kept his bad attitude.

Even though Etta was annoyed at Malfoy, she knew she would miss times like this over the summer.


	8. Year 2- Part 1

**Year 2- Part 1**

Etta Baker lay sideways on her butterfly pattern comforter in her home bedroom. She watched the birds outside her window fly from branch to branch. The tree outside her window had been merely a sapling when she was very young. Now, it stretched to the second story. The alarm on her drawer was not due to go off until seven, but Etta had awoke long before. 

It was September First. Etta could not wait to leave on the Hogwarts express today. Over the summer, she was glad to spend time with her parents. But, it did feel rather boring when compared to life at Hogwarts. Mr. and Mrs. Baker had taken Etta for a vacation on the beach one week. On the first night of vacation, the family went to a Sunset Grill and sat a table outside with a view of the sea. 

Mrs. Baker was flabbergasted when Etta confidently told the waiter her order. The last time the family had been out to a restaraunt was before Etta left for her first year at Hogwarts. On that occasion, she had told her mother her order, and let Mrs. Baker relay it to the waiter. 

For most of the vacation, Etta spent her time riding waves with her boogie board. This was fun, but it could not compare to the thrill of riding a broomstick. She had become somewhat infatuated with learning about the beater position. When the Baker family returned to their house, Etta had bugged her father almost every evening to play pitcher to her as she swung a baseball bat.

Etta missed flying. But more than that, she missed her friends, Holly and Greg. Both friends sent her a moving picture of them and their families through the owl post. These pictures currently stood on her nightstand. They stood out amidst the stationary photographs of her own family members. 

There was also something else from Hogwarts that frequently flashed through her mind. Scenes from the cold dungeon classroom would play on repeat for some reason. Sometimes they were short, like a swish of a black cloak, or an ingredient dropping into a teaming cauldron. Other times, they were phrases and sentences spoken in a deep voice. On some rare occasions when these memories played, her hand flew up to her shoulder. She could have sworn she felt a ghost of pressure there.  

Now, as she watched the shadows of branches on her bedroom wall, all of these people and experiences zipped through her head at once. Finally, her alarm sounded. She channeled all her energy into packing the car and scarfing down breakfast as fast as possible. 

In no time, the Baker family was on the road, headed to King’s Cross Station.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Author’s Note* Sorry this week’s chapters are short! However, I think the next two sections need to be posted at the same time, and I’m not done with the second bit!


End file.
